Friday, I'm in love
by cookiemunster
Summary: Prequal to 'When Jools met the Boosh'... there was another meeting. Be nice! OneShot


**Ok, I suck at one shots. Let it be screamed from the rooftops, I just do. But you need to read this before you start reading the new story I am going to put up just so the beginning of the new story makes a little more sense. Or you can just read it as a sad little stand alone. Whatever. Just if you do read it, please review it!**

**The new story will be called 'When Jools met the Boosh' and will be up very, very soon (ish).**

**The song belongs to The Cure. I am not The Cure. It is not my song. Don't sue me.**

**This is all from Vince's or Jools' POV but I'll make it obvious who it is.**

**Dedicated to the love of my 1950s housewife persona- Corrine. The One and Only Shaman Whore. **

**So…. you may be wondering why I've put this up now? Well it's Friday (in my mind)… I'm in love… : )

* * *

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_**It's Friday I'm in Love... **_

_**Jools**_

Rain in England on a warm summer's evening is something fairly magical. Or maybe I just think it's magical because I haven't been here in four decades and I'm seeing everything, even this light drizzle with rose tinted glasses placed firmly on my retinas.

It's so good to be back, walking along the pavements the smell of wet asphalt mixing with cigarette smoke and cooking as I walk through the streets.

I took the tube. It was kinda a pedestrian thing for me to do. I just wanted to be around people, I guess. Their chatter and general _people_ness has always been a comfort to me. Where I come from I meet millions of different life forms everyday but for some reason, I always feel most at home with humans. I guess it's cos I look like one; biped, two arms, no tentacles.

I can feel the excitement rising as I wander onto the street. The Dalston street, the address is scrawled into a small book in my bag. However, as I approach the house, and I know it's his house from all the vibes I'm getting, I'm slightly, well apprehensive.

What if he doesn't want to see me? What if he thinks that cos I haven't been in touch in forty years it means I don't care anymore? I couldn't stand that. Whatever Naboo thinks, he'll always be my best friend. I mean, he's the one who held back my hair when I was throwing up that entire bottle of Absinthe when we went to the Moulin Rogue that one time, back in the 1890s. And when we both decided to go on that suffragette march, Naboo dressed up in a crinoline, me falling about laughing as he yelled 'Votes for Women!' at the top of his spaced out little voice. The wild parties at Andy's factory back in the 60s... I'm reminiscing so much I almost walk straight passed his house…

It's big but I know he lives on the top floor, the flat with the big window and the turret. He's never been bothered by heights, he was always the most comfortable of our class to fly on the carpet. Back at college he was always impressing the girls by swooping low over the rooftops or flying past the upper dorm windows. I'll never forget the day when someone actually opened a widow as he flew past and he rode straight into it, nearly knocking himself out and making his turban go all sideways.

I walk up the path feeling anticipation and nervousness mingle in the depths of my stomach and press 'Flat 3' on the small intercom. Once… twice… three times. Nothing.

I try again. Nothing.

Oh GOD!

Why didn't I call ahead? He's out. He's gone out. My first night out off in nearly 3 decades and he's bloody well gone out! I wrote him a letter! I sent it to him weeks in advance! I tried reaching him through his crystal ball but he was always engaged.

Of course he's out. He's not mine any more… he lives with people, he has a life. Even a girlfriend, Tara or something. I bet she's nice.

Suddenly I get the overwhelming feeling that I want cry. I realise how much I miss my old friend and how much I just want to see him. With everything going on at the moment… so I sink down onto the step and cry my eyes out. Very mature.

After a few minutes of sobbing like a little girl I've decided that's quite enough of that and pull out a small compact mirror and repair the damage to my makeup. It's not that I'm really vain it's just I have tendency to wear a lot of eyeliner and I don't want to freak the citizens of London out by looking like a panda on steroids.

I stand up, and decide I need a drink. A Jack and Coke. And if I'm lucky I might just find Naboo somewhere in this massive city….

* * *

_**Vince**_

I'll admit I didn't want to go out tonight. I would've much rather sat at home and appliquéd some more rainbows onto a pair of vintage moccasins that I bought in Camden Market last week. But Howard bullied me 'cos there's this girl he likes and now I'm propped up at some filthy bar while he makes these painful attempts to woo her.

I 'spose I should be happy for him, you know, that Howard's chatting up this girl. But if by some grace of god he's successful ( and it really will be god being pretty fucking graceful, I mean who comes on to a girl by saying 'I'm a Grade 7 at the surbarhar' ? It's like asking her if she wants to see an exhibition about deciduous trees … which he actually did once, come to think of it.) Where was I? Oh yeah, if he manages to drag her in with promises of surbarhar recitals and homemade chutney (dear god he's reached new lows) then, I'll be the only one of the gang who's unattached.

I know. It's pretty tragic.

Bollo has his lovely girlfriend, Deidre the gorilla, who lives downstairs. They go out clubbing or stay in and listen to some tracks Bollo's mixed and laugh at David Attenborough documentaries. That's the kind of relationship I want. Obviously not with a gorilla. _Well_ I dunno… maybe I haven't met the right gorilla yet.

Naboo's dating my baby sister (although she'd probably deck me if I called her that to her face)… I mean its ok. I'm fine with it. It's cool. If he dumps her I'll just kill him and then dump his body over a bridge or something. God, no he's my friend! I'll probably just hit him or put toothpaste in his socks or something. Not that they'll ever break up, they are as loved up as to drunk fools on love potions living in love town. They've gone out tonight, probably to a quiet bar or something. They'll probably just sit and drink and… ugh don't go there. Whatever they are doing they have a nice time.

And me I'm just a rolling stone, rolling on like a big fucking stone all lonely staring into the abyss… Jeez, I should stop drinking cocktails with names like 'The Depressionator'.

I turn round to order a Flirtini, even though I feel about as flirty as a piece of lino on the floor of a public urinal. The bar maid grins at me, her teeth as shiny as her hair extensions and she sticks her chest out rather alarmingly. I wonder if she fancies me or if she has back problems.

"In a flirty mood are we sweetie?" she asks, batting her eyelashes like a bloody cricketer.

No, I'm not. I don't want to be here. I don't want to chat you up. I'd like to go home and read a book about Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick, two people you know nothing about until that Sienna Miller film gets reviewed in Sneak magazine. But then I think, you know, it might be entertaining for a bit and I'm just about to give her a little smile when a girl walks up to the bar and flops down on one of the stools next to me.

I notice her for a couple of reasons. She has this amazing curtain of long, straight completely white hair. She has on an ultramarine trench coat that hugs her curvy figure. She's wearing a short-ish midnight blue ruffly skirt, grey tights and silver boots. Oh yeah, and she looks furious.

I dunno what it is about her but she seems to be almost, well _radiating_ waves of pissed off energy. My eyes are sort of drawn to her cos of this. Compared to the rest of the girls in here she stands out. Not cos she's massively pretty or anything it's just she's got, well character. Plus they are all wearing variations on the same Topshop outfit (skinny jeans, t shirt maybe a scarf or a badge). She looks like she's just stepped out of some weird period drama about a Victorian time traveler moonlighting as a Seventies detective. Really must stop with the drink now…

The barmaid shuffles over to her, irritable because she actually has to do some work.

"Yeah?" the barmaid asks the woman rudely.

The woman looks up, and for the first time I catch a glance of her. She has a rounded face, with a small straight nose and a cupids-bow mouth. Her cocked eyebrow reveals that either she is very patient at dying it or that her hair is actually white. But what really stand out are her large eyes. They are deep navy in colour and they would probably look black or purple in lower light. However, in the glow of the club's lights I can see small flecks of light blue and green swimming in her irises. She has long lashes and her eyes are outlined in black kohl. I suddenly realise that I've been openly gawping at her for a good few minutes so I turn and drop my eyes before she catches me in goldfish-mode (staring gormlessly, not floating on my back in a toilet obviously).

And right now her eyes are flashing with annoyance and indignation. She takes a deep breath.

"Pardon?" asks the woman. Her accent sounds like a Northern English one with a slight foreign lilt to it.

"Youwannadrink,yeah?" asks the barmaid, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. I would" replies the woman.

"Well?"

"Pardon me?"

"What do you wanna drink?"

"Hmmm, what do I want to drink… to drink… hmmm you know, hmmm I'm not sure…" the woman says a cat like grin spreading across her features as she toys with the clearly hacked-off barmaid.

"I would like a Jack Daniels and Coke. Please" she says eventually, in an ultra-polite voice.

The barmaid spins on her heel and gets her the drink then slams the tumbler down on the table .

"3 euros" she barks.

"There you go, keep the change." says the woman, handing her a ten euro note.

The barmaid, obviously confused by the fact that she's been given a seven euro tip wanders off to the till and doesn't return. The woman shrugs off her coat to reveal that the midnight blue skirt is in fact a dress. A long sleeved corset dress with bead work on the bodice.

Then she looks up at me. And smiles.

* * *

_**Jools **_

I'd seen him pretty much as soon as I walked through the door. A black haired guy wearing black jeans, white boots and t shirt and a ridiculously downcast expression. He was staring into his drink like it had slept with his girlfriend or something. I wondered how old he was and I guess about late twenties. I look like I'm in my early mid twenties… although I'm actually pushing 6 centuries now.

The closer I got I realised how good looking he was. Really skinny and pale with a pointy nose and a sweet mouth and very blue eyes. His hair was layered and fanned dramatically round his face, his cheekbones high and defined. I found myself wondering how he'd look if he smiled. Good, I imagine. . Very good.

So once I ordered my drink from the snotty bar maid and once I've taken my coat off, I turn my head and smile at him.

He smiles back. I was right.

"Hi" he says quietly.

"Hi" I say back.

"So… do you come here often?" he asks and then cringes.

I laugh, not at the lameness of the line but at the fact that I don't come here often. I don't even come to earth that often.

"No, I don't. It's pretty… nice… though…" I say and then laugh again. He laughs too. We both know that the bar is pretty low rate.

"I'm Vince" he says and sticks out his hand.

"I'm… Aurelia." I say.

And it's true. That is my first name. I just never, ever use it. I've been Jools since before I can remember. But I'm sick of being Jools. Jools is the girl that was crying on a doorstep half an hour ago. I want to be someone other than her. Just for one night. Just while I'm with Vince.

I take his hand and I wonder if he feels the same stomach flipping surge of electricity that I do as I shake it.

"Nice name." he says. "Means 'golden' doesn't it?"

"Yep… and my surname's Blanc… so I guess that makes me 'golden white'." I smile at this old joke.

" That's cool.. and kinda weird cos my name's Noir. So we're just Black and White then!" he says to me and we both laugh

I like him already.

* * *

_**Vince**_

"Do you wanna go somewhere else?" I ask Aurelia, after we've finished our drinks.

"Won't your friend mind?" she asks me.

We look over at Howard (I told her I came with him) as he tries to dance with the girl. She's got a sort of sexy lap dancer thing going on and he's sort of like a dad at a family wedding, after one too many Pimms.

"I doubt he'll notice I've gone." I say and then I smile. Ever since she started talking to me I haven't been able to stop smiling.

I pick up my long black jacket as she shrugs the trench back on again and picks up her bag. As I open the door for her I catch the barmaid giving us a sour look. We step out onto the street, the air refreshingly cool after a long heavy summer's day.

"So… you've lived in London all your life?" she asks.

"Pretty much… the accent give it away?" I say.

"Yeah, just a touch of Sarf Lahndan in there." she says and flashes a sweet little grin at me.

I really like her. She's funny and sweet and different. And she seems to like me. Lots of people talk to me like I'm thick just because I dress the way I do and occasionally say not too bright things. That doesn't mean I'm stupid though. It just means I can't be bothered to prove myself to people who've already made judgments about me. Aurelia didn't do that, she just talked to me.

We walk down the streets talking and laughing for hours. It's all so… easy. We talk about stuff.. not about friends and family or work or anything, but about weird stuff. Like when it rains after hot weather and the world feels like it's bursting into life. Or how the moon seems to watch over us. Or about how sometimes it feels like all the people who look like they are going some where are just as lost as everyone else.

Usually I have to make an effort to make women understand my weird sense of humor but she just gets it. She gets me… and I can't stop looking at her. She's so different looking, with her white hair and funky clothes. She's not skinny but she's curvy and voluptuous. I like the way that her face softens when she smiles. I like her laugh, I like her walk, I like… her.

We reach the end of the street, a crossroads. We look at each other and realise that neither of us knew where we were going. Then she grabs my hand and tears of down the street, heading nowhere in particular.

It's like we're kids, running through the street laughing and kicking up puddles. After a while I have to stop and I lean against a lamppost, trying to catch my breath. She stops too; her cheeks flushed her eyes bright.

"You're not tired?" she asks, her tone slightly mocking.

"No…" I gasp out.

She laughs at this and looks up at the fairy lights glistening in the trees that line the street. Somewhere someone is playing music. An old Cure record…

'_I don't care if Monday's blue… Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too… Thursday I don't care about you … It's Friday… I'm in love…'_

Our eyes lock. It's like I'm hypnotically drawn into her gaze and I sway towards her and bend my head, press my lips gently against hers. At first she tenses and doesn't respond but then she suddenly erupts against me and puts her arms round my neck as my hands go around her waist. It's probably the best kiss I've ever had and as it intensifies I can feel myself falling deeper and deeper…

Then suddenly she pulls away and shoves me backwards, with surprising force. She looks down at the floor and breathes slowly and then puts her hands in front of her yes.

"I'm sorry." she says quietly

* * *

_**Jools **_

Sometimes I ignore that little voice in my head that tells me how to behave and let myself go for once. Kissing Vince was one of those stupid moments when I just overrode every logical thought in my head.

I look up and take my hands of my face. He's looking at me with this hurt confused expression on his face and I can't take it.

"I'm so sorry…. but you don't want to.. get involved with me." I say, hoping that will be enough of an explanation.

It isn't. I can see that, the confusion on his face has turned to something like anger or exasperation.

"Well… why the hell not?" he asks.

Hmm… maybe because I'm a sha-woman who doesn't live on this planet? Maybe because this is probably the only time I'm going to be in London this century? Or maybe it's just because I'm so scared of letting my guard down, letting you in and then losing you…

"Because… I'm leaving tonight." I finish simply.

He looks hurt again and then his eyes narrow suddenly, his voice goes cold and he asks ;

"Is there someone else?"

"No Vince, I swear." I look at him and I can tell that he believes me.

"So it's just me that you don't want then?" he says, his voice sounding so utterly dejected.

My heart wells up for a moment and I have to stop myself from grabbing hold of him and hugging him tightly.

"It's just… look Vince. I'm leaving and I won't be coming back. I have an important job on another plan- in another country. And it's just easier if I don't get involved with anyone. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry" I trail off.

He's still looking at me. It's a bit unnerving, this cool eyed gaze.

And then he's walking over to me and he lifts my chin and kisses me on the lips again. The strange, bittersweet feeling rises in my stomach again.

When we part he gives me a look and then says quietly.

"I think we will meet again."

It hurts because I know we never will. And I don't want to hurt him anymore than I have to. Because if he feels half as much for me as I've begun to feel for him it's going to hurt worse than falling off a magic carpet into a greenhouse. Filled with cactuses. Poisonous ones.

* * *

_**Vince**_

She looks at me, this pained expression on her face. Then she begins to walk away. I watch her. She turns around and waves. I wave back. Then she's gone, round a corner… and out of my life…

I hear a clock someone strike twelve midnight. A warm summer rain begins to fall as I head back through the streets.

I feel strange. I feel like I've just let the most beautiful, interesting, funny woman walk away from me with her swearing we'll never meet again. But I don't feel like that. I know we'll meet again. We just have to.

I get home after hailing a cab.

"Good night?" asks Howard (alone) in the living room.

"Yeah. The most amazing night of my life." I reply. Then I walk into my room and drop down on my bed, destined to a sleepless night.

* * *

_**Jools**_

I walk around the corner and then dematerialize, leaving a glittering glow in the air where my body was. It's easier not to cry when you don't have a physical being to do it in.

Then I will myself upwards, towards the stars and back home, leaving London and Vince behind…

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**Yeah it ends abruptly but that's because it's not the end of the story! Please review, I need feedback on this! And be nice… **


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